I've been having a craving lately.
So much has been words and imagination in my mind.
I want to create things now.
I want to take things in my hands and make something.
I want to make a mural.
Of everything I've seen.
Even as I write these words, I know it's not the write medium. I want a fat sharpie. A big black one and one of a bright color, red or yellow or orange. I want to color a huge poster board with paint and words and images that I've taken and shared and hated and loved and seen the potential. I have to do this. I have to.
It's wanting to come out of me. Out of my fingers and toes and eyes and ears, pouring out of me like nothing else before it. I need to buy some paint.
